Page 40 of Allie's Shelter

She grimaced at the sight of her reflection. It looked like she’d plowed into a porcupine. The raw scrape over her puffy cheek and the small marks where the splinters had been only emphasized the dark circles under her teary, bloodshot eyes. With shaking hands, she wiped off the rest of the dirt and indulged in the soothing feel of the cool washcloth against her battered skin.

She was a wreck. Worse, she was a one-woman wrecking crew. Ross was in danger because of her. Her aunt’s vacation had been interrupted by a vile threat because of her. She felt bad enough her life had been reduced to running from gunfire and Tasers, but it was unbearable that her trouble spilled over onto innocent people.

If she thought she could get away with it, she’d go see Sheriff Cochran tonight. Right now. She wanted to get to the bottom of this threat against Aunt Ruth. Although, as aggravated as Ross had been a moment ago, he might give her the car keys and wish her luck.

None of this chaos had been in her life plan and her need to get back on track was overwhelming.

She changed into her yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee and went back out to set the table. She wasn’t surprised to find only the most basic set of dishes and silverware in the cabinet and drawers. He’d told her flat out he didn’t live here. Still, it felt far too domestic and thankfully not the least bit romantic when Ross stomped back into the kitchen when the oven timer sounded.

He stared at her for a long moment after she set the pizza on the counter to cool. “Be right back,” he said, turning in the direction of the bedrooms.

Allie decided it was best not to try and figure out his prickly mood. Hoping the meal would settle him a bit, she looked for the right bottle of wine. She was impressed by the selection and Eva’s obvious expertise. Using a bottle opener gadget lovers would envy, she opened the wine and let it breathe while she sliced the pizza.

When Ross still hadn’t appeared, she served herself and headed for the table.

“Impatient as ever, I see,” Ross said with a smile.

Allie tried, but she couldn’t return the smile. She didn’t remember him being quite so moody—not without a good reason anyway. Actually, he’d only ever been moody when something out of the norm of his dysfunctional home life had happened. The hair on her neck rippled with dread. What could be troubling him other than her situation?

Exasperated with herself, she made a deliberate study of the wine in her glass. When would she be nice to herself and drop this ‘compare and contrast Ross then versus now’ routine?

“Better get it while it’s hot,” she said when she’d finally quashed the urge to prepare his plate for him. They weren’t playing house here and they definitely were not looking to rekindle anything more than a friendship. He’d said that much himself after she’d thrown herself at him in the window seat.

She checked her watch. Had that only been a few hours ago?

“You cleaned up, figured it was only fair if I did the same.”

She nodded. He looked good in a cobalt polo shirt that hugged his biceps and the worn jeans riding low on his hips. The scruffy beard shadowing his jaw only made him more appealing. She told herself she was most relieved he’d changed out of the bloodstained Cypress Security shirt, but the parts of her tingling with anticipation weren’t convinced.

To keep herself from taking a bite out of him, she bit into her pizza. For a few moments, it was simple bliss to enjoy the hearty flavors and quiet company.

“You were right,” she said after another bite. “Food helps.”

“The wine can’t hurt either.” He smiled, raising his bottle of beer.

She raised her glass in kind. “Eva has excellent taste.”

“You’d know better than me.”

Somehow, she thought he knew pretty well. About Eva, about wine, about a lot of things he wasn’t discussing with her. “What did your security check show?”

“No one ventured inside the property line.” He took another long pull on his beer. Setting the bottle on the table, he seemed to forget the pizza as he toyed with the bottle pensively.

The third time the label came around, she cleared her throat. “Any word on my aunt?”

“She’s still safe. As far as onboard security is concerned, it’s a prank. They ran a full sweep and it seems only the message—not the messenger—is on board.”

“Did they mention how the message was delivered? A death threat can’t fall from the sky, not even that close to Sicily.”

He chuckled. “According to Cochran, Ruth was only perturbed at the disruption. She found the note—an old style cut and paste sort of thing—in her shopping bag after an excursion.”

“But why bother the sheriff?” Ross pushed away from the table and lurched to his feet, making her want to snatch back the question. “Ross?”

“Because the note mentioned you specifically.”

The pizza turned into an icy lump in her stomach. “They threatened Aunt Ruth, hoping she’d convince me to give up the data?”

“Smart as ever, I see.”

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